Fantasy: Hands

April 25, 2007

(Instruction: “Sit perfectly still and imagine my hands on you. Imagine them however you want, as intimately as you can. Imagine them fully, and feel the imagination in your cunt. Feel it fully. Don’t move a muscle, though.”)

At first I imagined you grabbing my face and turning it towards you. Face grabbing was one of the first things you did (so long ago now) that made me realize who and what you were, what you could offer me, what I so desperately needed. From there, my thoughts kind of drifted along, trying to find something to latch on to – your hands on my breasts, brushing my nipples. Teasing my labia. Pulling me over your lap and spanking my ass. Then I remembered the sharp sting of your hand when you slap my cunt, and I stayed with that one for a while. I imagined you slapping me there repeatedly, while in between each blow I thanked you, begged for another, and forced my legs apart so I could receive it. How exquisite an experience that is – the exquisite pain of your hand on my most delicate area, paired with the exquisite pleasure of my submission to your will. Ahhh.

Thinking about that got my cunt warming, and my mind and your hands started to wander. I pictured myself standing in the middle of a room. Short skirt, unbuttoned shirt, black heels – much like the picture you sent me today, although collarless. You are measuring and inspecting me with your hands – it is as if I am on the auction block, and you are determining my worth. You lift my chin, turn my face, inspect it. Then my breasts – you weigh each one, first from outside my shirt and then inside. You brush the nipples to see my reaction, see me stiffen and gasp. Your hands move down my body, pinching my skin here and there, assessing my assets and deficiencies. You pull the skirt up around my waist, and begin to inspect my cunt. You tug on the labia, outside and in. Find my clit and hold your finger there until my body starts to move of its own volition (in my fantasy – in reality I am still holding perfectly still). Then you pull a rubber glove on to your hand, apply some lube, and push a relentless finger into my tight asshole to investigate it as well.

Here, sitting in my chair, my cunt throbs and my nipples harden, but then the fantasy drifts away on its own. Like you, it decides when it’s done with me. Your hands wander a bit about me body, but then I open my eyes, look at the picture of you and I on my desktop, and write you this email.

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